The Gift of the Magi
by HecateA
Summary: A loving but poor couple is ready to do anything to make each other's Christmases special. A parody of O. Henry's story of the same name.
1. Tonks

**So Harry Potter's fanfiction archive always seemed like a daunting place for me because everyone in the archives is so brilliant. But I really wanted this idea to come out, I've literally been waiting since March for December to come around. It'll come in three parts, the last part being delivered to you on Christmas morning. I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters (to whom I can only hope to do justice) presented in the story, and the story line is a parody of O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi". The text under each chapter title is from the story's last paragraph.**

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**1**

**Tonks**

_The magi, as you know, were wise men-wonderfully wise men-who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents._

Her memory may be as clumsy as the rest of her, but it never failed to remember the Christmases of her childhood.

She remembered the family uniting at her father's' parents' houses and all of the gifts and the cards pouring in from that side.

But they had great fun. She remembered impressing her muggle cousins with simple magic tricks she'd mastered young, pieces of colourful paper filling every inch of the floor and every corner of the room, torn ribbons littering the floor and smells ranging from spicy gingerbread to rich turkey and lamb and beef and goose. Her memories at Hogwarts were just as vivid –if not more because the castle brightened up and offered more opportunities for mischief during the holidays than in any other time.

Tonks wasn't superficial enough to believe that Christmas had to be luxurious and festive to be enjoyed, but she was sentimental enough to believe that it should be special. This year was no different. Especially since it was her first Christmas with Remus…

He was late waking up, still exhausted though the full moon had been days ago. Without that dirty little Snape, Remus couldn't get his wolfbane potion, thus making Snape now totally useless in the scheme of things and the universe's functioning.

She kissed his cheek and set a plate in front of him, well aware that he was exhausted and needed it. He grabbed her hand to hold her back long enough to kiss her, and run a hand over her belly. It was barely swollen, but they both knew it was only a matter of time. That was both scary and exciting and terrifying.

"How are you, love?" He asked.

"I'm fine. It's you that needs the worrying, Remus."

"I'm fine," he said.

"Not from what I can see," Tonks said pulling a chair and sitting down, picking up her fork and gobbling up.

Remus sighed and looked at her, his tired eyes both amused and exasperated at the same time. A look she got often, and had learned to associate with fondness.

"I'm okay. Don't you worry about me; I've been doing this all my life."

"That doesn't mean you're automatically invincible," she said.

"Well you're doing something completely different right now," he said, evidently speaking of the baby. "And you look just as tired. Would you like to stay home today?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I don't care how well you can change shapes Dora, it's not just the bags under your eyes that can say when you're exhausted. Besides," he said his voice becoming more serious. "I know that you deal with a lot at the office."

"Me? I'm fine." She tried to wave off.

"I talked to Kingsley."

"The bastard betrayed me," Tonks hissed.

Remus took her hand over the table.

"If you think that I don't know what you hear at the office and what people insult you for, then you're wrong; and if you think that you can protect me from knowing these things, then you're foolish."

"Oh don't you transform into a martyr and blame yourself, Remus." She said.

"I won't," he promised. "I won't. I acknowledge that you made your choice, knowing what it meant."

"Damn right, I did." Tonks said with her mouth also occupied with a spoonful of eggs.

"But if you need a break, which is only human…" Remus said.

"I'll take it, I'll take it. I know, I know." Tonks said, finishing off her plate. She got up to go fry another egg. "You better eat that."

Remus smiled. "I actually have to be out the door earlier than usual."

"What for?"

"I think… well, I rather not just spill the beans. But I think I have a chance today."

"I'm sure you do," Tonks said kissing his cheek before going back in the kitchen.

Remus worked odd jobs. It wasn't something a man of his education or qualification should be doing to survive, but Remus was used to it, after all. The Wizarding world had never been fond of werewolves, and it wasn't about to start now with Fenrir Greyback out to grab children in the night. Even with a "tame" and "humane" werewolf such as him- though it always disgusted Tonks how he was too monstrous for wizards and too human for werewolves. Was there nowhere he could fit in? Tonks had her arms open to him one way or another and she was more than willing to persist until the good days, but it wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fair.

He'd usually scourge London for jobs- especially on the muggle side of things where he could excuse his condition as one of their degenerative nerve disorders or something. The Weasley twins were quite fond of having Remus working in the back of the shop –since he'd insist that he'd ward off business if he was in the front. Flourish and Blotts secretly used him to review and recommend and find new books. But those were all short-term jobs that could last at best a month, at the least a few days. The holiday season's rush seemed to help a lot, but the full moon always put even the most generous and risky employer off for a bit.

Tonks wanted to write a book: "Things about Werewolves That Aren't True in Every Particular Case in the whole Wizarding World and its History, God Dammit you Thick Lot". Remus was no more dangerous after the full moon than she was- which actually wasn't true, because she was hormonal and catty.

With a wave of his wand, he got the dishes done before she could even pick them up, and had them put themselves away in the cheap cupboards of their small apartment.

"Thank you," she smiled leaning against him. He was wearing his proper coat: a nice, old-fashioned garment that was of dark blue cloth. It was long enough to reach his knees, and was his only undamaged item of clothing on the grounds that he'd always preserved it with upmost care. The buttons were losing their shine and the cuffs were long gone, but it made him look like a Victorian gentleman. It was a gift he'd gotten from Sirius a few years before Harry was born and the Marauders officially started growing up and falling apart. He had said he was tired of Remus not looking like a professor or scientist or minister. Tonks thought that he'd probably found it somewhere in Grimmauld Place.

"No problem," he said kissing her ear. "I'll probably be around the muggle side today, at least for another day post full moon, but I can't make any promises."

"Okay," she said. "Are you bringing your book?" She asked pointing to the paperback encyclopaedia on runes he'd been rereading for the last week.

"Not today," he said. "And do you have your case?"

Tonks kept her auror medals in a case given to her by her parents. They'd been stolen the month of You-Know-Who's takeover of the ministry. It'd taken forever for she, Kingsley, Daedalus and Hestia to find them again, in the drawers of the Head Auror's desk- go figure. Tonks brought the case home every night to keep them safe and back to work every day to show off, which was highly unpractical according to Remus. But he'd accepted the fact that she was stubborn as a mule.

"Of course," Tonks said. "Have a nice day."

"You too, love," he said.

She knew how bad he felt about having to look for work around London all the time. People were wary of him as soon as they set eyes on him, just as he was wary of the jobs he all but begged for. He'd lived this way his whole life (except for that one year where Hogwarts had welcomed him home and into his staff- the best year of his life, Tonks thought) and had accepted that it had become his fate just as the moon was now his enemy and silver burned. But with her in his life and a baby in her stomach, he felt inadequate and bad and worthless.

Sure: Remus Lupin may not glitter in the sunshine. Tonks would admit it. But his eyes glittered with wit and kindness when he was not in an intense recovery mode, and he was worth his weight in pure ruby-incrusted gold. That was what mattered.

Sadly you had to accept the first to live with the seconds, and most people just couldn't do that. Sometimes, not even him.

Drumming her fingers against the counter, Tonks pondered all of this. Remus' guilt, his fruitless hard work, the toll the outside world was taking inside, how he had to be reminded that he was a great man, the magic of Christmas…

Maybe she could weave all three together. She was clumsy, but she was starting to see how this was a knot she could tie.

"How's the cub coming along?" An auror called Estherson said walking by her desk, shoving her shoulder so she tripped on her own foot.

"I don't know," Tonks snapped back, "But my shallow harassment complaint against you is coming up really well, I just need to find a word to describe you that isn't vulgar."

Tonks probably would've gotten into a lot of trouble if Kingsley hadn't come in and told Estherson and Dawne that the Head wanted to see them. She got shoved again as she left and Kingsley locked eyes with her raging irises. He walked up to her.

"Are you okay, Tonks?" He asked her.

"I'm bloody fine," she said between locked teeth.

Tonks was a naturally bubbly and energetic person. She'd spent Hogwarts as everybody's friend, dancing through social events (well, tripping would be more accurate) and enjoying high school like people always glorified it as. She'd been well liked in the auror's office for the longest time, often dragged to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink after work and to parties and Quidditch games on weekends. Then one day she'd shown up with an engagement ring and it was like everyone had taken a step back. As if Tonks had started to smell. Of course there were exceptions; Kingsley of course, Dedalus and Hestia as well- bless them all from head to toe. But all of a sudden Tonks wasn't sure what her whole life had been around if one thing she did –one thing that wasn't anybody's business and that had hurt absolutely nobody, mind you- could totally crumble it all. Had she ever been a likable person, or had she had some kind of people-attracting quality that was now gone?

"Clearly not. Look, why don't take the day off?" Kingsley said.

"I can't do that, I'm saving up sick days for when the baby's born. I don't see Robards being generous with the maternity leave- little corrupt prat."

"You're getting too haughty," Kingsley said putting a hand on her arm to calm her down. "Besides; it's Christmas in two days. I'm in charge of the office today, Tonks. I'll make it work."

Tonks took a deep breath. She was tired- both physically and mentally. She saw Savage and Proudfoot sitting on the later's desk and giving her dark scowls and whispering about the scene with Estherson. Those two had been her mates- they'd had good bits of fun in Hogsmede last year when asked to watch the castle. It made her furious to see them against her now.

"Alright," Tonks said. "But you owe me twenty galleons if I get in trouble for this."

"You have my word," Kingsley said.

She went back to her desk. It felt empty to her. She had pictures of her parents and her dad's side of the family and her school friends. She had her locker sized posters of the Weird Sisters. Knick-knacks given as office jokes littered the surface, giving the gift givers a good laugh every now and then when they walked by.

There was also a small case with a thin black frame and a glass window, the one in which Tonks kept her auror medals of honour. She had four- one given because she'd graduated top of her class in a certain subject, one for the first dark wizard she'd gotten, one for being injured on the job, and another one for saving a fellow auror's life- Williamson who was now a Death Eater himself, curse him. She'd previously had one to acknowledge her facing of the Death Eaters, but all of them had disappeared from the country overnight, mysteriously. The case was custom made of alder, apple, laurel and pear wood and was a graduation gift from her parents. Gold borders were etched into the frame.

Alder wood being reputed for suiting only great witches and wizards, apple because apple wand owners often being gifted in magical tongues and communications with other creatures, laurel which was said to make wands unable of performing a dishonourable act, and pear because no pear wand had ever been found in possession of a dark wizard.

Her mother had worked in the back of a wand maker's shop most of her life and knew wand wood like she knew her own family. It made a sweet gift, as well as being a difficult one to craft in reason of the difficulty of blending wand woods, and the magical properties and luck that oozed from it. Whether it was lucky like her superstitious mother said, or not like her level headed father said: Tonks truly cherished the case.

She packed up her bag and saw Proudfoot and Savage's eyes still on her, giving looks that meant nothing good. Proudfoot's eyes were actually on the case of her medals- her achievements, the proof that she brought something to this office that nobody else could. She chewed on the side of her cheek and quickly shoved it inside her bag as well. His eyes quickly found something else to look at when she straightened up.

She shrugged on her dark green cloak and instead of pulling her hair out from behind the collar she shrunk it to her favourite bubble-gum pink spikes.

"Cheers Kingsley," she said before leaving.

She exited the building through the stupid toilets, and apparated to Diagon Alley, where she was determined to find a Christmas present for Remus on a day where she was free, the shops would be hopefully a little emptier during the daytime , and she knew he wouldn't be around.

Diagon Alley had lost its magical and chaotic property. It was like even the sun's beams didn't reach the hidden alley as much. The snow on the ground -usually kept clean and white, crisp and cheerful- had evolved to slush and had been tinged grey by the nervous passers trampling it with quick steps on a daily basis. Some stores' windows and doors were boarded up- either their owners had bailed, disappeared, or died. The holiday crowd was ridiculously small. People didn't loiter near shop windows or sit at cafés and ice cream shops to catch up.

Many wizards were doing the exact same thing he was, wandering Diagon Alley looking for jobs or people to help or things to mend with magic on the street to steal customers from this story and that one. Tonks had a feeling that some stores were hiring people to stand outside stores with similar stocks and advertising better stores at their own shops. It was a bit on the disgusting side to be honest.

Diagon Alley was a hard reminder that no matter how hard she and Remus were having it, the Wizarding world was suffering ten times that blow in general.

Tonks looked at the stores. They were all wide open to her, but she didn't know which one to look through first. She had no idea what to get Remus. She'd have ideas if this weren't their first and hardest Christmas together, and she'd have plenty of ideas if she didn't want the gift she'd go home with to be meaningful.

She walked up and down Diagon Alley, slipping on ice and tripping over irregularities in the snow more than once.

She tried a few bookstores- but no title jumped to her eyes that she knew for a fact that he hadn't read thought he absolutely had to read. He was a difficult book critic, although he'd never say a word against a book she got him, and books were so mundane. They were birthday gift material.

She stopped at Scribbulus' Writing Instruments, this store, that store, here and there. Nothing caught her eye. Fatigue starting to weigh down on her ("you won't be tired after the first trimester," her mother had said. "Liar," Tonks had said), she went over to the Magical Menagerie, and looked at the critters climbing their living spaces, kittens playing around in their pens, the birds squawking in their cages, the slumbering pets to be. He loved magical creatures, but now may not be the best time to get a new owl or whatnot.

The store attendant was lowering an adorable tabby into a little girl's hands and she was looking at the kitten as if it was gold and jewelled.

"Really Mama?" She asked.

"Of course. This kitty's your Christmas present," a witch said kissing the top of her head. "Always better to pick your own pet: they love you for it more."

"He's beautiful. I'm going to call him Porter."

"That's a beautiful name, sweetheart." The witch said as her daughter cuddled.

Reenergized by that warm, toothy smile and the Christmas gift success story that she'd just witnessed: Tonks set out on her mission again, going back down the cold street. At least it was sheltered from the wind.

"Miss," someone said. Tonks turned around and spotted a man wearing a patched and ripped up coat standing near a store door. "If you lookin' fo somethin' p'etty fo yo'self, that sto'e o'er 'ere 'as some'in of 'or likin'."

Tonks recognised his strange accent not as something from a homeland, but of a Tongue Messer curse. She didn't know the man's story, she didn't know what he was doing here, or if he had deserved it, but she handed him a galleon.

"Head over to Slugs and Jiggers," she said indicating the apothecary with a wave of her hand. "Ask for a teaspoon of pod butter, and you'll get your tongue functional again."

"'Anks Miss. 'Appy 'olidays."

"To you too," Tonks said watching him hobble away. She noticed that the woman in the shop window was looking at him walk away with wide, happy eyes and disbelieving that he was walking away.

Well, if she was in someone's good book she might as well go into the shop. It was Madam Malkin's. For a second she was puzzled that it was as deserted as it was, but then she remembered that Blythe Malkin's husband had been a mudblood. She was bad by osmosis to the general public, much like Tonks and her mother as a matter of fact.

The bell rang as Tonks got into the store.

"Welcome to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions," she said. "Thank you so much for chasing that scoundrel away. Business is bad enough already."

"He's not a scoundrel, he's just struggling," said Tonks rather defensively.

"Sometimes it's hard to appreciate that when you're doing badly yourself. How may I help you?"

"Nothing, I'm just looking around."

"For a Christmas gift?"

"Yes," she said.

"May I suggest-?"

"I'm alright," Tonks said quickly. She really wanted this to be a unique gift, not what everyone had on their wish list.

She looked through the stores, at traveling cloaks and warm winter coats with fur at the hems and elegant dresses for upcoming Christmas parties and balls. The price tags made her feel dizzy; the pouch of gold in her bag suddenly didn't seem so well-stocked.

She looked around some more, starting to think of leaving and coming back with a better holiday battle plan tomorrow. She hated Christmas Eve shopping.

That's when something reflected light around the old fashioned cash register Madam Malkin kept her profit, and Tonks saw the cuffs.

They were displayed on the counter, in a rotten wooden case. They were for coats, to embellish the sleeves. She took a closer look and noticed that rules were sculpted in their center. They'd stand out in a crowd of coats certainly.

She smiled.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"Seen something you like, dear?" Madam Malkin asked.

"Yes, how much for those cuffs?"

Madam Malkin gave a look.

"Five galleons each," she said.

"Five?"

"They're special, dear, good luck charms. Those cuffs are made in the private laboratory of an old Celtic druid; he's one of the last true artisanal amulet makers. He's becoming older and older, you know."

"What do the ruins say?" She asked. Remus would know.

"Well, like I said: they're old good luck charms. Phony now, of course: but they used to be worth an arm and a leg back in the day."

Historical value.

"But they're all animals. That's pig, that's rabbit, here's dog, and that's mouse."

History…

She had it.

"Are those the only animals you have?" Tonks asked.

"No, dear. If you're willing to be patient, I can place an order with my druid overnight and have them next morning."

"Will he do anything?" She asked. "And can I get some by tomorrow?"

"Surely."

"I'll need a stag, a dog, a rat and a wolf." Tonks said.

"That sounds doable," she said smiling and taking out a pad of paper to write it down. "Can I get your name, dear?"

"Tonks Lupin," she said. That would always be funny to Tonks, Kingsley, the Weasley and co: but Tonks didn't know what else to go by. "And… can I negotiate the price a bit?"

Madam Malkin looked up with a sad smile.

"Any other day I would, dear, but I'm having a tough year. I expect you to know that better than anyone. Your husband's a werewolf and your father's on the run: I recognise you now."

"I know but… I don't…" Twenty galleons was money she just didn't have to spare. "Is there anything I can do? I don't care what it is."

"I'm afraid not, sweetheart. Unless you have one of the coupons offered up in the Prophet."

"I don't read that, I use it as fuel for the fireplace," Tonks mumbled. Great: the one time something useful might have come up in that toe rag…

She looked around the store, pondering her options. This was what she'd spent her afternoon looking for, she had to get it. A stag, a rat, a dog and a wolf. They were the symbols of Remus' greatest years, of the part of his life where he'd been a regular schoolboy. Of the people who'd made him feel normal and hopeful and included in the world's best group for the first time in his life- last if you didn't count the Order of the Phoenix. Hung on his coat, the one item of clothing that made him feel and look like the proper and calm man that he was...

She looked at the cuffs sadly, and noticed the rotting wood.

"You need a new display case for those," Tonks pointed out.

"Well, in these rough times the priority isn't there."

"Think of how much more attention the cuffs would get if they were all nice and pretty," Tonks said trying to use her leverage. "And in these times? Good luck charms would sell like hotcakes."

Madam Malkin stopped and considered it. Tonks' heart started beating fast and she reached into her bag, pulling out her own medal case. She put it on the counter and Madam Malkin's eyes opened wide.

"Oh that's nice," she said.

"It's made of alder, apple, laurel and pear wood. Hard to craft, but its magical properties are very cool." Tonks said.

"Such as?"

"Well, it cleans itself," Tonks said for starters. "No fingerprints, no dust, and I spilled tea on it once and it repelled the liquid. It wasn't even sticky. It looks brand new, and the colour changes in the light. See how it looks black?" Tonks tilted it and as the store's lights caught on it in different ways, the different colours of the wood were shown, sometimes two or three of them at once.

"It's gorgeous," Madam Malkin said.

"You won't find another like it," Tonks promised.

"And you're offering to trade this for twenty galleons' worth of cuffs?"

"Trust me; they'll matter more than that. They'll matter more than their weight in gold or this case's weight in gold actually."

Madam Malkin considered.

"It's Christmas," she finally sighed with a shrug. "And if worst comes to worst, I'll get a good sum for selling it again."

"We have a deal?" Tonks smiled.

"Yes," Madam Malkin said. Her smile must've been contagious because the old witch's lips pulled into a smile as she filled in Tonks' order form.

When she got home, Remus wasn't there yet. She was starving, and got the kitchen cooking dinner even if it was his turn to put supper on the table. Thanks to her new and improved household spells (well, more or less improved), a pot of soup was stirring itself, a knife was cutting through a loaf of bread, dishes were setting themselves…

Her husband came back a little later, wearing a black traveling cloak that she didn't recognise, shoulders sprinkled with snowflakes. His eyes were dark brown and warm and pleased, though tired, and his chestnut hair was cut short, though grey shot through it like comets' tails.

"Hello," he said giving her a hug from behind.

"Hey you," she said leaning back.

"I found a store that was ready to hire," he said.

"In Diagon Alley?" Tonks said, scared for a second that he'd seen her lurking about.

"No, right off of it," he said.

Some stores just didn't attract the kind of attention for Diagon Alley.

"Well that's good," she said smiling.

"I'm going back tomorrow as well," he said.

"That's great," she said. He smiled back at her too. Apparently he'd had a good day.

"I'll go hang my coat. Everything smells brilliant, love."

"It's leftovers from Molly," she admitted sheepishly. Remus laughed before kissing her on the cheek once more and heading up the stairs.

Tonks smiled to herself, giddy for Christmas as if she was a child again.


	2. Remus

**Hello! Thank you for the kind reviews and feedback. I hope you like this chapter too. The story will start to make more sense because of it.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters (to whom I can only hope to do justice) presented in the story, and the story line is a parody of O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi". The text under each chapter title is from the story's last paragraph.**

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**2**

**Remus**

**Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication.**

He was late waking up, still exhausted though the full moon had been days ago. His shoulders were sore and his knees and wrists, ankles and elbows tight as if the full moon turned a screw there once a month. He cheered himself up by keeping in mind that at least he wouldn't be spending his first Christmas with Dora as a wolf. When the twenty-fifth rolled by, it was like magic filled the air and everyone chose to be happy even if it was technically just another day. Being good at making that decision in her everyday life, he knew that her Christmases were always a year's best day. And he had hopes for his to be good as well.

When he managed to sit down, she kissed his cheek and set a plate in front of him. He grabbed her hand to hold her back long enough to kiss her, and run a hand over her belly. Though it wasn't swollen, Remus knew that it soon would be. He did care about the child in there. He had to make sure that Tonks knew it and he had to make absolutely sure that his earlier foolishness was labeled as nerves and fear.

"How are you, love?" He asked her.

"I'm fine. It's you that needs the worrying, Remus."

"I'm fine," he dismissed.

"Not from what I can see," Tonks said pulling a chair and sitting down, picking up her fork and gobbling up.

Remus sighed and looked at her. She was both exasperating and endearing at the same time. One of the many quirks Remus was fond of.

"I'm okay. Don't you worry about me; I've been doing this all my life."

"That doesn't mean you're automatically invincible," she said.

"Well you're doing something completely different right now," he said. "And you look just as tired. Would you like to stay home today?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I don't care how well you can change shapes Dora, it's not just the bags under your eyes that can say when you're exhausted. Besides," he said his voice becoming more serious. "I know that you deal with a lot at the office."

She tried to wave it off, but her eyebrows furrowed. Guilt shot through him like a drug in his bloodstream. He more than acknowledged the fact that Tonks was a bright woman and that her choices were hers and he had to accept them. But he would always feel that pang of guilt that what was supposed to be their happiest time, their miracle, was considered an indecency outside their shabby apartment's four walls.

"Me? I'm fine." She said.

"I talked to Kingsley." Remus said breaking it to her.

"The bastard betrayed me," Tonks hissed.

He took her hand over the table.

"If you think that I don't know what you hear at the office and what people insult you for, then you're wrong; and if you think that you can protect me from knowing these things, then you're foolish."

They broke his heart, those things did. It was cruel that a trait of humanity was hatred and judgement by association. As a child Remus had told himself that he'd do something great to wipe away that hatred, but children's dreams were the weakest prey of reality. He wished that Tonks didn't have to be associated by society. He wished that the person she'd been seen as before –the bubbly, enthusiastic, likable, charismatic, funny witch- was the same person as the one she was seen as now. It hadn't changed in the slightest, after all. Remus' worst fear was that through everything she'd hear, she'd forget that she was still that person, doubt herself, question her choices, dismiss her achievements. Everything from her extraordinary duelling skills to her official Auror merits to her puns and jokes- they were all priceless.

"Oh don't you transform into a martyr and blame yourself, Remus." She said.

"I won't," he promised. "I won't. I acknowledge that you made your choice, knowing what it meant."

"Damn right, I did." Tonks said, her mouth full.

"But if you need a break, which is only human…" Remus said.

"I'll take it, I'll take it. I know, I know." Tonks said, finishing off her plate. She picked up her plate, probably still hungry. "You better eat that."

Remus smiled. "I actually have to be out the door earlier than usual."

"What for?" She called.

"I think… well, I rather not just spill the beans." Give false hope. "But I think I have a chance today."

"I'm sure you do," Tonks said kissing his cheek before going back in the kitchen.

Never before had it been easy to find a place where a werewolf could be trusted and where a werewolf could fit in. It definitely wasn't as Fenrir Greyback was all powerful and loose in the world that that would change. Usually he could be busied with the Order or live in the Black House. He'd always been able to find a way to handle himself and make sure he didn't go hungry or cold- or not too hungry and too cold, anyways. But with Tonks everything was different. He couldn't just wander and take each day as it came; he had someone with him now, someone who needed a stable life. And with a baby on the way, it was just plain crucial.

Scourging London for jobs worked- especially on the muggle side where nobody sane believed in werewolves. Working in the back of shops on Diagon Alley was nice and common, but usually it lasted only for a few days. A month at the most all the time; because once a month the full moon came around and reminded his employer of why he hadn't been given a job beforehand. The holiday season's rush helped a bit, but the full moon had recently swung by, so things were still shaky.

He joined her in the kitchen and cleaned and put away the dishes with a wave of his wand. No matter how much Tonks was trying, her household spells would never be perfected. It was like her own wand refused to condemn itself to being a housewife- an extra reason to be proud of her for still going into the office.

"Thank you," she smiled leaning against him, her arms wrapping themselves around him and her fingers playing with the collar of his coat- an old gift from Sirius that Remus made sure was always kept clean and nice.

"No problem," he said kissing her ear. "I'll probably be around the muggle side today, at least for another day post full moon."

"Okay," she said. "Are you bringing your book?" She asked pointing to the paperback encyclopaedia on runes he'd been rereading.

"Not today," he said. "And do you have your case?"

Tonks kept her medals in a case given to her by her parents at graduation. Though it had been stolen earlier in the year, she refused to leave it at home where it was safe- despite it being the logical and normal course of action. She brought it into the office during the day and home at night. It was a mix of her cheekiness and stubbornness, two more things he loved about her.

"Of course," Tonks said. "Have a nice day."

"You too, love," he said.

He apparated a block or so away from Diagon Alley, at a place where many industries who didn't have the stature or quality to be Diagon Alley material set up shops. Many people were facing the same problem as he, to a lesser extent usually, and so many stores had signs in their windows telling them to back off, that asking would be fruitless in their establishment. Or, occasionally, the sign would be asking for an extra pair of hands in the shop.

More than once Remus walked into a store with such a sign, and was asked to leave right away. He was known in the Wizarding world. Not a household name of course, nor was it fame. But grown witches and wizards who read the Prophet could usually pick him out in a crowd. Such a thing tended to happen to the professors of Hogwarts and the close ones of the late Albus Dumbledore.

Finally he found a shop, an old Wizarding antique store. A bell rung as Remus opened the door, and he stood in the doorway for a few seconds, letting the door fall. A man with a cloud of white hair stood at a counter scribbling. Remus looked at the stock for a few seconds –an old writing desk with tarnished locks and Celtic spirals, wind chimes that made any noise but pleasant jingling, tea sets decorated with birds and unicorns and vines labeled as belonging to great wizards… - before the owner looked up.

"Oh no," he said waving his hands. "Get out."

For some reason Remus liked this store, and he raised his hands up.

"I'm not looking for any trouble," Remus said.

The writing desk rattled.

"I would like some work, though. I've noticed you're looking for someone."

"No, no, no," he said huffily. "That sign is a leftover from a long time ago."

The writing desk rattled again.

"Sir, before I leave, may I just suggest that you take a good look at this writing desk here? It's a lovely piece, really; but nobody will buy a desk with a boggart in it." Remus said.

He froze.

"A boggart, you say?"

"Yes," he said. "A creature that shifts shapes to scare whoever sees it."

"Are they dangerous to human life?" The shop owner asked intrigue.

"Not particularly, though they can get nasty."

"How do you get rid of them?"

"Well, there is a simple spell," Remus said. He remembered teaching this at Hogwarts, having all those bright eyes fixed on him, ready to learn, respecting him... Neville and Padma, Parvati and Terry, even Draco and Gregory and Vincent. And Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course. The thought made him feel better. "Would you like me to perform it?"

"Yes please," the shopkeeper said, interested.

Silver bullets shouldn't scare the shop owner, so Remus went ahead to draw his wand and release the boggart.

He stood a fair distance away from the desk, wand drawn. With a non-verbal spell, the top of the desk opened up and out poured the silver bullets. They shot up in the air and danced around Remus. He pointed his wand, kept his thoughts clear, and pronounced the spell.

"Riddikulus!"

The bullets fell out of the air and turned to cockroaches, scrambling the floors left and right. They faced the storekeeper.

"Close your eyes!" Remus said quickly. He did, and the cockroaches turned back to Remus. They hooked themselves together and grew into… Tonks?

She looked sickly, much like she'd spent the last year in Hogsmede. Mousy brown hair, pasty skin tone, dull eyes. She was frail and as thin as he was. Nothing about her was healthy. By the hand she held an equally desolate toddler, who opened his mouth to speak. Instead the baby teeth he should sport were fangs.

Nothing funny came to Remus' mind and he wanted to scream and run.

No- he'd gotten into this. He had to. Both because he was prideful and because he'd made a promise to the owner.

What was funny? What was funny about Tonks?

"Riddikulus!" He said.

Tonks was wearing jeans ripped at the knees and a men's cloak she'd stolen from his drawer to keep warm. Her hair was neon yellow, and her eyebrows were blue to contrast her green eyes.

"I have a good one," she said. "I swear this is a funny one. What does the baby Dementor say when his mother makes him clean his room? This _sucks." _

It was a boring joke; a very bad one. But that was exactly the kind that made Remus laugh, and so he did in the middle of that shop. The boggart of Tonks frowned, insulted, and vanished. The writing desk shut itself.

"Fear is the opposite of laughter," Remus said. "A boggart can't handle it. There's a whole philosophy elaborated by the Polish wizard Antoni Bakalar- it's quite complicated."

"Oh," he said. "I'd never heard of that before. So you're afraid of silver, evidently, and of..?"

"Dora," Remus filled in. 'Tonks' was associated with 'Ted Tonks' since his name featured in the Prophet every day, and she'd be easy to find.

"So your wife? And a kid? Tough luck, you poor bloke," the man said compassionately.

"Not of her," Remus said. "I'm just afraid for their futures sometimes."

"You have a son?" He asked. "I didn't know werewolves could have kids."

"Not yet," Remus said. "And to be honest, I didn't know either."

He laughed. "Well now it's clear enough."

The man walked up to the window and took the sign off.

"Probably a wise idea," Remus noted. "As to avoid further confusion."

"Actually it's just because I've hired you for now. Christmas is crazy- you just wait until the ministry workers finish most of their shifts. These are some mighty fine antiques, here- mostly why I don't like getting help from just anybody, not even in these crazy times. If you'd told me that any shop owner would even consider it a few months ago before... Well, go and put your coat in the back."

Smiling, Remus obliged. He'd have some good news for Tonks tonight.

He spent the day talking with the chatty shopkeeper, Mr Brewster, as he polished tables, dusted furniture, fixed the store as old as its content, and sorted through and wiped framed certificates of authenticity clean. They made him think of Dora and her case, which in turn made him think of her, and the way she'd talked to him about her Christmases last night.

He was horrible at giving gifts. For one, he hadn't had people to give gifts to in a long time and had had to startle his skills back to life two short years ago. And this terrified him because he wanted to give Tonks something spectacular. Something unique… He hadn't been the best person to her; reacting to her pregnancy that poorly and questioning her decisions about him in her place and a million other things. None of those things had excuses. He wasn't shallow enough to believe that material goods would make up for it, and she wasn't shallow enough even to consider it. But sentiments in tandem with material could work, not to make it all better but to make a point, and that was his goal. He had to show her that she was a great person, and though he might be rusty he was as good of a husband as he could be. Even if he was still empty-handed this close to Christmas.

Whenever he stumbled upon something interesting, a single question lightened up the old man and threw him into bits of storytelling. And there were many interesting things- a beautiful lock, a string of lights with tiny cages to hold pixies, old genie lamps from the Middle-east, a rack of old fashioned gowns whose detail made them beautiful even though they were out-dated…

Every now and then a customer would come in. Remus would keep his head down, mouth shut, and he'd try and disappear to the back. Mr Brewer had been good to him: frightening off his clients seemed like a poor way to return that debt. Though the one time he did speak, no consequences followed suite and the young witch actually seemed quite pleased.

He was busy classifying books –all first prints of now renowned spell books- when Mr Brewster came out again.

"Remus, I don't mind to intrude, but I was looking at your coat and it does seem quite old. Do you mind if I have a look at it?"

Frowning slightly, Remus promised that no, he didn't, and it was fine. Thanked by Mr Brewster, he went back to work. If he managed to hold this job… The full moon had just passed by on the solstice, literally two days ago, and so with a bit –who was he kidding, _a lot- _of luck he could be earning money until then. It could be a solid job.

He tried to keep himself from dreaming. Without sounding too depressed and worn down by the world; dreaming too often did more damage than good. Remus didn't need any more damage- he was just starting to find a balance within himself, and he was inching towards a solution for Tonks.

"Remus," he heard again. He raised his head, wondering if he'd done something wrong. Mr Brewer held the coat.

"Where did you get this?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he said. "It was a gift from an old friend."

Calling Sirius an old friend sounded so… terminal. It made them both sound like an old man, which he wasn't quite. It made him sound worn out, and like he'd lost too much and lived too hardly. Granted, maybe he was and maybe he had. But he rather keep the marauders fresh in his mind and heart though two of them, arguably three, were gone.

"And he didn't tell you where he got it, did he?"

"I don't believe he did, sir. Why?"

"It's just… I've been looking at the stitching and the colours and so forth and I just can't help but think… I'm actually quite certain, from what I can tell, that this coat is a relic of the Gardendale family."

"I don't know what that is, sir."

"They were a dark family," he said. "Twisted, twisted people… Brilliant wizards, but twisted people. The wand put in their hands could've saved a village from a plague, but they usually cast them in the first place. They were what was called a _Mortemain _in the Medieval times."

"A good family turned bad," Remus nodded, recognising the term.

"Yes. They're thought to have later turned and bred pureblood lines such as the Malfoys, Prewetts or Blacks."

Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, Remus thought. He'd dug that coat out from somewhere in the house, had guessed the size right, and had given it to Remus. The act was so typical, so expected from a man like Sirius that he nearly smiled. It made him long for the good days even more. He wasn't lonely on Christmas, of course not, he had Dora, but he'd like it so much if Sirius and James and a good, honest Peter could meet her and if she could meet them.

"I don't know if what you say is true, though it's probable." Remus said.

"Brilliant," he said smiling and shaking his head. "Brilliant how you find treasures out of nowhere!"

"Yes Mr Brewer," Remus nodded before turning back to his books.

He wondered if Tonks ever missed the days before their marriage. Remus did not and never would regret the day he spoke his vows, and he hoped and was certain that she did not either. But he wouldn't deny that if public perception could remain as before, both of their lives would be easier. The slouch in Tonks' shoulders certain mornings let Remus know that the brave woman who'd chosen him out of them all wasn't invincible, and that the outside world was weighing her down. Even the people who didn't care could be pestered enough to do so. He couldn't make prejudice go away, but on a smaller scale he had to make sure that she was strong enough for that weight or else she'd be miserable and by contagion so would he. He wished he could remind her of how great of a person she was, but the problem was that people like Tonks weren't people who came with tokens and bits and bots. There was no piece of paper saying "You are a wonderful person Nymphadora Lupin" and signed by the Minister for magic.

She had her auror medals though… in that case. That case that people stole from her at work, something infuriating…

Oh.

He finished fussing with the books before turning back to where he'd previously seen the lock, and he picked it up. It burned his skin and he dropped it back, pulsing with shifting light as if it had a beating heart. Hearing the 'pluck' sound Mr Brewer turned around.

"Oh yes- careful with that Remus."

"What is it?" He asked.

"They call them Elysium Locks," he said. "This one is rather modern. They're the safest security system in the wizard world apart certain spells. They can be broken with killing curses alone, you see. Anyways, these locks burn anyone touching it who isn't the owner."

"Some of them are so elaborate as to grow flowers or sing songs," Mr Brewer said.

"Is it a safe assumption that they know their owner through magic?" Remus asked.

"So safe that it is correct," Mr Brewer nodded.

As he'd been talking he'd been pulling on leather gloves.

He came close and picked the lock up from where Remus had dropped it on a small round table with a glass top.

He put the lock on an Indian chest that had formerly been a famous potioneer's living room centerpiece, and the lock shut itself. Vines grew from it and wrapped around the chest, keeping it safely closed. It was a beautiful, elegant magic. The kind that was rarely seen but always appreciated.

Having casually sneaked a peak at the price earlier, Remus knew it was out of his reach.

But having thought about what he ought to give Tonks for Christmas for the last month or so, he knew that that was exactly the right thing.

She'd be able to bring her case to work and nobody would steal it. Her achievements, or the ones materialistically represented, would be safe and untouchable. And knowing Tonks, she'd get a kick out of a burning lock, and she'd appreciate the magic that went with the vines and the light.

Maybe he could figure something out, he thought as he pressed some of the period clothing. Money wasn't the only way to acquire things; Remus knew that better than most wizards. Usually he'd swap favours, but he was already doing that. Occasionally an inn would take him in for a night if he swore never to come back, and he'd let go of his pride and accept the bargain. He never had anything valuable to trade but… wait. Value…

Mr Brewer was a man who saw not objects but their stories. He gauged values differently than the average wizard and maybe, just maybe…

"Mr Brewer?" Remus suggested.

"Yes?"

"I have a preposition." He said.

Mr Brewer frowned. "I'm listening."

"If you believe that that coat is really a _Mortemain _relic, than would you like to keep it?"

Mr Brewer's jaw dropped.

"Why Remus, of course I would! I am a hoarder of such things! But I don't have the money to buy it off of you right now."

"That's okay," Remus said. "Maybe we could trade relics?"

"Trade? Ah- something caught your eye," he chuckled. "I should have known. A man of history like yourself… well, what is it?"

"The lock, sir." Remus said politely.

"Hmm. It's a rather unique piece… but so is that coat and so little remains of the _Mortemain _era…" Mr Brewer said. "Well, you have got yourself a deal, Remus. I'll wrap it up, and you can empty your pockets and hang the coat near the stock of goods that are waiting for certification and pricing."

Happy with his day, Remus obliged. The ministry rush would be arriving in less than ten minutes, and Brewer and he had agreed a while ago that it wouldn't be wise for Remus to be seen- especially not by the Death Eaters in the crowd. Thus his day of work ended.

He felt happy by it- it had been long ago since the last time work had been found early in the morning and the day had been spent working. Most people complained about work, but Remus prided himself for it wherever and whenever he had it. There was no pickiness when you were a werewolf- it wasn't a privilege you could have.

"I can't let you go home like that, you'll catch a cold and that wife of yours will kill me. You can take a coat from the rack, and just bring it back tomorrow at eight. That's when the shop opens by the way, will I see you then? There's paperwork to do then."

Remus realised that he was being offered another day. At least another day, maybe more.

He must've looked stunned because Mr Brewer carried on. "You're intelligent and cultured and educated, and you do help more than I'd have expected. You're different than the rest of the wanderers," he said.

"I've always been a wanderer."

"Maybe so, but Lucius Malfoy has always been a ministry ally. Things are not always right, I believe."

"I will come tomorrow," he said inclining his head before taking the cheapest and most modest black traveling cloak from the racks. It wasn't as warm as his coat, but it didn't matter to Remus. He had Tonks' present in an inside pocket.

Once home, he hid the lock under the bed before setting down for supper and quizzing her on her day. She didn't seem very keen on talking, but nothing bad had happened from what he could tell. Or nothing so bad that she couldn't lie through it- which he considered worse than when she couldn't. He was happy to share his good news with her though.

Christmas Eve was even busier in the shop upon Remus' return, and this time he didn't have the option to eclipse himself away from the public eye. But the frantic holiday shoppers didn't seem to care or didn't notice him. He collected two days' worth of pay from Mr Brewer, who told him that his offer still stood after when the shop would open up again, the days after the New Year. Thanking him warmly, Remus went home early. He stopped and bought Tonks red poinsettias on the way, full of what would be the holiday spirit and happy with the newest development at the antique store. She wasn't a very conventionally romantic woman, but every now and then flowers would get a smile out of her and something told him this was a lucky day. Tonks had, once again, beat him home, and was so hungry she'd gotten a head start on supper once again.

"You're not wearing your coat," she noticed.

"Oh, well, it'd just get shoved in the back of the store anyways. I just left it home." He lied. He noticed that the case wasn't displaying the medals on the usual kitchen counter, but kept his mouth shut just in case there was some bad news she was saving.

He rescued asparagus and hash brown potatoes from burning as she got distracted with putting the flowers in a vase.

"I didn't make a feast," Tonks said as he put her plate down in front of her. "I figured that we're going to Molly's table tomorrow for Christmas, so…"

"We should have fasted for a week," Remus smiled.

He was actually hoping that on Christmas morning, everything would be better than okay. He was hoping that everything would be great.


	3. Christmas

**Merry Christmas! Thank you for following, favouriting (I made up a word) and reviewing this rather short story, and I hope you enjoyed it up until this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters (to whom I can only hope to do justice) presented in the story, and the story line is a parody of O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi". The text in bold is from the story's last paragraph.**

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**3**

**Christmas**

**And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house.**

Remus woke up and starred at the ceiling for a while, Tonks snuggled up against his chest, his arm thrown around her like they'd fallen asleep.

When she started stirring he sat up and watch her slowly come to her senses.

"Merry Christmas, love," he said brushing her hair from her face. Her eyes shot open and her lips pulled into a smile.

"It _is _Christmas, isn't it?" She smiled to him. She sat up, but her hand behind his neck and kissed him. It was a holiday kiss, for a day where people chose to be happy.

Pulling the piles of quilts off her feet, Tonks slipped out of bed and let her hair grow long. Honey blond with strands of green and red braided together.

"Too much?" She asked turning around to face him.

"It's Christmas," he said shrugging.

He made vegetarian omelettes for breakfast. They didn't really have a Christmas tree or decorations, but something about it being Christmas day made it so that it didn't matter. The atmosphere was giddy and happy.

He had her Christmas present in his pocket, wrapped in white paper and red ribbons. She'd swapped her hair about a dozen times, and now it hung in long, loose purple locks over her shoulders, framing her face. Tonks wasn't beautiful in a delicate or fragile way, she was strong and well-built. It was the important things about her – the joy in her smile, the sparkle in her eyes- that added beauty to what every face was; a blank canvas. But mark his words, she _was _beautiful.

They were in the living room an hour or so later, the radio playing in the corner as they tuned in for Potterwatch.

"Merry Christmas our dear rebellious viewers! This is River wishing you enough holiday cheer to make You-Know-Who smile!" Lee announced.

"Well, maybe that's a little much," Fred announced.

"You really think so, Rodent?"

"I know so, River. I also know that I am _Rapier _so for the sake of Merlin and Dumbledore's pants, stop calling me Rodent. Now; mum will kill us if we're late for Christmas and we'd like to keep the crushing of spirits to a minimum on this good day, so today's broadcast will be quite short!"

"Thankfully the Death Eaters have agreed to cooperate with this arrangement by taking Christmas breaks. You-Know-Who's latest fury is because a loophole was found in the contract binding their souls to him forever, aforementioned loophole being bank holidays." George said.

There was a minute of silence for a family whose house had burned down and whose smallest daughter was in the hospital, the parents' arms burned up, and for a muggleborn who'd been arrested and awaited trial this very day.

"Now we're going to play "Find the Potter". As you all know, Harry Potter has separated himself into several pieces as to be able to be spotted by ten people at the same time all around the country! So today we have special guest Red-hot as a host, how are you Red-hot?"

"More attractive than you'll ever be," said a small voice.

"No way- that's Ginny!" Tonks said. "I knew she'd sneak herself in there somehow!"

"Oh, Molly will be furious," Remus said, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

"Just start the game and don't get smart," Fred replied.

"So today your choices of where Harry Potter currently is are: a) In Studio, b) Hogwarts, c) Koh Kong Province, Cambodia, d) a ditch, e) lying in a cold marble room withering in his own blood- for the love of Merlin, who came up with these? I expect its River. And you also have option f) a French café where he is enjoying a hot _café au lait_ and croissants."

"So helpful Red-hot. Okay listeners, time to vote!" Lee called out.

"'In Studio' would be nice," Tonks said cuddling up with Remus. He nodded and put an arm around her.

"And the answer of where Harry Potter currently is: d, a ditch because he is Quidditch fan and the two rhyme. Yes, I certify this as a legitimate guess." Ginny said.

"Thank you Red-hot, now get off the air." Fred said as Remus and Tonks laughed.

They did some more hoax-killing and:

"Now to bring a little holiday cheer into your slightly gloomy lives, here's some music." Lee said.

"They always do say that music is the food of the soul." Fred commented before a recorded carol played, very familiar, tune. It sounded nearly normal at first, and then Fred started singing.

"Voldy the tyrant was a nasty bitter soul- Rapier, does he have a soul?"

"I don't know, mate." Lee said.

Fred resumed singing, with George as an unmistakable background singer.

"Voldy the bad guy was a nasty biller soul

With a hairy heart and no nose at all

And two eyes that scourch your soul

Voldy the bad guy, is a defective mannequin they say,

He was made of hate but the Potterwatchers

Know how he came to life one day…"

The opera style of this song was the real killer, and Tonks laughed so hard she snorted, making him laugh even more. By the end of the song they were both killing themselves laughing.

"We wish you a Merry Christmas folks, and we leave you to your gifts because we sure as heck wants ours!" River said. "There's going to be a real broadcast next Tuesday. The password's going to be 'Bones'."

The radio faded to static and Tonks wiped a tear from her eye.

"Those two are killing me," she said smiling.

"I sure hope not. I got you something," Remus said. "I want you to open it before we go to the Burrow."

"Molly will be furious that we've even _touched _food!" Tonks suddenly realised. "I mean- sorry- carry on?"

Remus smiled and handed her the package. Her eyebrows slanted as she eyed him suspiciously, wondering what it was, a smile playing on her lips. She was just excited to have a present in her hands. She pulled at the ribbon gently and acted more like herself as she ripped open the paper.

She took the lock in her head and starred at it in amazement.

"That's lovely," she said turning it over. "And the key that goes with it- holly smokes, that handle is gorgeous!"

"It burns intruders," Remus said. "I thought you could use it for your case." He smiled, waiting to see her reactions. The smile wasn't as bright as he'd hoped, and it looked a little forced. He panicked a bit. Had he completely messed everything up? Was the present horrible? Should he have just gotten her a ring or a new cloak or a normal, conventional present?

"It'll be handy at the office," she said turning it in her fingers, looking at each detail a little too intensely.

"I thought you were tired of having to hide your medals of honour instead of showing them off," Remus said. "I swear, you have more to show off than the Minister of Magic."

She looked up at him, her eyes melted, smiling, and kissed him.

"That's really sweet, and this is beautiful," she said. "I can't wait to see its magic!"

"It's impressive," Remus promised her, hoping that maybe she'd like it more once she saw it in action.

"I bet," she said. "Speaking of presents, I didn't forget you."

She handed him a case coated with blue velvet. He opened it and saw a set of four glittering cuffs, resting on a bed of fabric. Runes were carved on them, and he recognised the symbols immediately as Celtic runes. The animals featured threw his heart up his throat, and he looked up at her. He was usually well-spoken, but he didn't have the words for this one.

She beamed at him, her whole face lighting up. Apparently his understanding of how deep the present's meaning went was plain on his face.

"I thought they'd top off the whole fancy look you have with your coat," she said.

Oh no.

"Go get it, I want to see," she said tugging on his sleeve.

"Actually, Dora…" He said.

"You're using my real parent-given name," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have the coat anymore." He said figuring that beating around her bush and testing her patience wasn't something he particularly wanted (or should attempt) to do.

She frowned.

"Why? It's your favourite thing, what happened to it, is it broken- I can mend it for you or- no, better get my mother to do it, or Molly I'm sure she'd be happy to. Oh no- did someone..?"

"Calm down," Remus said putting his box down and taking her hands. "I traded it."

"You traded it?" She asked, jaw hanging.

Remus nodded.

"For what in the world are they worth trading for?"

He didn't say anything and she connected the dots herself, before she started laughing.

"Oh thank God, I was feeling like a real twit for a second!"

"What?" He asked confused by her reactions. Her eyes were shimmering.

"I don't have my case. I did the same thing."

"No…" He said. She kept laughing.

"Oh yes, I didn't have nearly enough gold…" She turned to look at him, shaking her head.

"What now?"

Remus looked at the lock and the cuffs.

"Well, if they're not going to be practical, let's put them away somewhere safe." He said. "We'll save up, and get your case back when we can."

"And your coat, in that case," Tonks said.

"Yes," he nodded.

"And until then let's just consider that we gave each other sentimentality and love for Christmas." Tonks said. "And to the first person who tells us that it's cheesy: we have hell of a story to tell."

Remus put an arm around her and kissed her.

"I suppose that's what we were trying to do," Remus said.

"I think we did it _too _well," Tonks said leaning against his chest.

"I don't think there's such a thing," Remus said.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Tonks said. "We're both pretty new at this."

"We sure are," Remus agreed.

"So how about we make a new rule?"

"I'm all ears."

"Next year: we just establish a budget."

** But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.**

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**The End**

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**6:09 12/3/2012**

**7:18 12/25/2012**

**HecateA**


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